Blaming farts on the dog«
C. Brian Smith pens an great article about being invited to the White House for dinner with a college drinking buddy, Barbara Bush. Funny and revealing, then very stark.
Before long, a handsome chef serves us each a helping of White House chicken potpie. As my plate arrives, a horrible odor arises from the table. If that’s coming from the potpie, I think, there’s no way I’ll be able to eat. How does one turn down food from a head of state? The question is rendered moot when the president peers down under the table to scold Barney, the family’s Scottish terrier, for farting.